


nothing's wrong when nothing's true

by sydinas (orphan_account)



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, also kinda ooc :/ i think, here it is 3 months after i first started writing it!, kind of a continuation to my other fic, yes i'm stupid i take ages to write stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 14:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20908838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sydinas
Summary: Robin looks at him then, again, and she gets it. She getshim.He’s young and he’s sort of broken—not because he likes boys or because he’s in love with his best friend—broken because he’s been through so much with so little life experience, and he’s come out the other side cracked and chipped and a little unsteady, which is to be expected, but he’s still strong. Stronger than anyone she’s ever known, will ever know. That’s enough, more than enough.





	nothing's wrong when nothing's true

**Author's Note:**

> so this is sort of set after my other fic (to reshape the stars) but you don't have to read that to read this, it's just sorta connected

“How did you know?”

It’s a loaded question and, as Robin looks at the young boy that sits across from her—his brown eyes wide and innocent with youth but knowing in a way that screams of wiseness beyond his years—she realises that she doesn’t know how to answer. Staring down the barrel of a gun might feel less scary than this. (At least, that way, she wouldn’t be just about fully prepared to spill her feelings to another person in this godforsaken town.) 

She gulps, looking down, nausea rising in her throat, and she’s almost tempted to leave, to shut this conversation down and grind it into the ground with a firm stomp of her foot, but then she sees the way Will’s eyes shine with tears and a sudden onset of guilt washes over her. All he needs, really, is someone who understands, someone who he relates to, and it would be cruel of her to not give him at least that. It would be far more than she ever had, and that’s what makes her stay. 

_ Come on, Robin, _she chides herself. _You’ve done it once. You can do it again. _

“I don’t know,” she begins, softly, the pitch of her voice lowering slightly. It’s sort of a lie and sort of the truth. “There was just this girl…” Her voice trails off, her thoughts filling the spaces in between. “It’s not… it’s not like there was anything really _special _about her, you know? It was just—I always felt my heart beat faster whenever I was around her, and my head would spin a little quicker.” She closes her eyes, letting out a quiet laugh. 

“I get it.” 

Robin’s eyes fly open. The light beams directly into them, and she has to blink a couple of times to get the imprint of it off the back of her eyelids. Still squinting, she says, “Huh?” 

“I think I… I guess I understand,” Will starts, blinks, unsure, his dark eyelashes fluttering. “There’s a boy, and, well, he’s sort of… perfect. I think I’ve always known, really, that I won’t ever…” He pauses, Adam’s apple bobbing at the bottom of his throat. “That I won’t ever be able to love anyone the way I love him,” he finishes in a mutter.

Robin’s heart sinks. Will is young, _so _young, and he apparently already seems to know what love is with absolute certainty, and has experience with how much it hurts. Robin can’t say the same. 

Her crush on Tammy Thompson was merely that. A crush. There were no loves or anything else of that sort about it, only the tell-tale heart palpitations thumping in her chest every time she laid eyes on her. It was simple. Nothing like this, with Will’s face a look of sheer hurt and heartbreak, a sense of knowing embedded deep in his eyes. 

She doesn’t know what to say, other than, “You love him?” 

It slips out before she can stop it, but before she can think better of it, he nods his head, replies with a “Yeah.” 

His head is downcast, a haunted look obvious in his pupils even though she can’t see it, his mouth turned down at the corners, frown upon frown upon frown, mask layered over mask layered over mask. It’s slowly peeling away, though. She doesn’t know how he’s kept it up for so long. 

“Does it—does it scare you?” she asks, gently, softly, quiet. 

“No,” he says, firm and concise and sure. “Not—not like it used to.” He glances up, down again. “I used to think there was something wrong with me, like, deep down, something that couldn’t be fixed. And then I… then I realised that, no, I didn’t need fixing. No one needs fixing. You are the way you are, and being different isn’t wrong.” He flicks his tongue out, wetting his chapped lips, nervous. “Well… unless they’re, like, murderers or something.” 

Robin cracks a smile. “Yeah. Yeah. Murderers are fucking crazy, dude." Her eyes widen as she realises what she said, and she claps a hand over her mouth. 

Will only laughs. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ve heard worse.” 

She laughs along with him. “Yeah, I keep forgetting you’re fourteen, kid. Time flies, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “Yeah, it does.” He fidgets with his hands, taps his fingers against the table, steeples them and rests them on the table, leans forward and rests his chin on them, flattens them down. “It does. And not to get all sappy and whatever, but the boy, you know? He’s my best friend, has been since we first met. Back in kindergarten. I was, what? Five? And he came up to when I was sitting alone on the swings, asked me if I wanted to be his friend, and I said yes. I said yes because I could tell from the moment I looked at him that he was someone I should never let go of. I think that became too true. I can never imagine letting go of him now. And that’s probably a bad thing, right? That I love him too much to let him go?” 

Robin sighs. “I don’t… I don’t know. Maybe. Probably. I’ve never been in that position, though. I had a crush and that was it. No more, no less. At least I know now, I guess.” 

“Right,” he says, quiet. 

She stops, ponders. “Steve—Steve might know. I don’t know. Maybe. That whole deal with Nancy was similar, I s’pose.” 

He quirks an eyebrow. “Steve? Steve Harrington?” 

“Steve Harrington. Yeah,” she says. “He was—he was the first person I... told, you know. It was kind of funny. He’d just told me he liked me… and then I told him I liked girls, and he didn’t get it first because he’s a fucking idiot, let’s be honest, and when he did, he didn’t care. He didn’t care. He just immediately started making fun of who I had a crush on, and then I did the same back to him, because he has really bad taste.” 

“Bad taste?” he asks. “Nancy wasn’t _that _bad.” 

“Well, no... Thought she was a bit of a priss, though,” she explains. “But, yeah, she’s a badass. Probably the only decent crush he’s had.” 

“Not the only one.” Will smiles, looks at her, right in the eyes. “I think you’re cool. Badass, too. Survived that Russian bunker, right? And… and there’s not really anybody I can talk about this with, you know? I mean, my mom knows, I think she’s always known, in a way. But I can’t really talk about it with her. And I think she’s still upset about Hopper, about Bob, maybe.” He stops, opens his mouth to say something, then closes it. He begins again. “Jonathan seems to be the only one with luck for love, I s’pose.” 

Robin looks at him then, again, and she gets it. She gets _him. _He’s young and he’s sort of broken—not because he likes boys or because he’s in love with his best friend—broken because he’s been through so much with so little life experience, and he’s come out the other side cracked and chipped and a little unsteady, which is to be expected, but he’s still strong. Stronger than anyone she’s ever known, will ever know. That’s enough, more than enough. 


End file.
